It is the end...

In the fall of 1994, as a college Freshman at Kansas State, I ventured down to the TV room in the basement of my dorm to watch the series premiere of a new medical drama. I was pre-med at the time and had every intention of spending my life in a white jacket. 15 years later, I sat on my couch watching the final episode of the same show. In those 15 years I never missed an episode. Even during the Retro Dance craze of my early twenties when Thursdays meant slinging $1.00 pitchers and $0.25 draws at the Granada. My VCR did my dirty work and I was able to escape into the perfect disasters that could only happen at County General. However, around year 11 I began to feel a disconnect from the staff. I would sit down at 9:00 Central (10:00 Eastern) Time and take a deep breath, pumping myself up to sit through another hour hoping I would feel the same draw to the characters and County General that I once had. Unfortunately, I never did. Still, every single Thursday night you would find me in the same place, waiting to take a glimpse into the ever changing world of my once favorite hospital. As I sat and watched that final episode I expected to be sad. I expected to feel a tremendous sense of loss. After all, I had spent every Thursday night for the past 15 years immersed in this imaginary world. I expected that I would mourn the loss of the characters and stories. However, as the dust settled I felt something very different than loss. I felt relief. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was finally free from the world of Cook County.

Today, at 4:22, I (among every other person in my office) received an email telling us of the future of the organization for which I have worked the last 7 years. A company that I love and feel proud and lucky to have been associated. At first I was sad. Thousands of people all over the country will be unemployed. Access to a product I love will be diminished. Yet, once I had a chance to feel the pain and sadness, I felt relief. Relief that I will not be living with a constant block in the pit of my stomach. Relief that I will not have to wonder every morning if this will be the day that another round of massive layoffs will take place. For the first time in 4 years I will lay my head down on my pillow and not fear what will happen tomorrow.

Please don't misunderstand... I am worried about the sacrifices we will have to make going forward to survive as a single income family. I am sad and worried for myself and my co-workers in this challenging job market. I am sad that I will no longer have daily conversations with the people I have grown to respect over the last 7 years. I am sad. I am concerned. I am human. I am, however, ready to move forward. I am ready to see what the next chapter of my life holds. I am ready to see what else is on Thursday nights at 9:00 Central (10:00 Eastern) Time.